


cheiloproclitic

by deadcellredux



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Dysfunctional Relationships, Implied Incestual Feelings, Meta, Other, So Wrong It's Right, Strider Feels, Stridercestish, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-01-26
Packaged: 2018-01-10 02:33:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1153732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadcellredux/pseuds/deadcellredux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're his bro, after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	cheiloproclitic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gendersquare](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gendersquare/gifts).



> for the tumblr word prompt: _cheiloproclitic - Being attracted to someones lips_. I don't know what I did here also I couldn't think of a title so there ya go

You’re famous. You’re busy. You’ve signed another movie deal, and you’re too preoccupied with deciding whether or not a SBaHJ productivity app for the iCrockerPhone will impact your production studio’s revenue or not.

You forget that he’s there, sometimes. You forget, and it’s terrible.

Your little brother is a smart, snarky little guy, though he doesn’t speak much—he prefers to write. You figure that’s why he’s always so busy typing away with his internet friends; with _those_ skills he must seem like a god to them, or something. A paragon of leadership or friendship or whatevership or _manipulationship_ , you don’t know. Oh, and you didn’t mean that last one. At least you don’t think you did. In any case, you have no idea, and you haven’t tried to understand, and yet—

sometimes it seems you barely know him. On the rare occasions that you do speak to one another, you find yourself fixated on his mouth, the one thing about him that’s real. Real because it’s a sort of gateway, an opening to that soft pink fleshy human pile of guts you can’t understand that somehow exists inside of him. On that note it’s hard, sometimes, for you to distinguish the reality amongst all the bullshit surrounding you; this is why you love your little brother.

It’s also why you kind of hate him.

He reminds you of life and youth and humanity and all sorts of other weird shit that you can’t quite place your finger on, but you know somehow deep in the depths of your dumb ugly churning guts that you’d fight to the death for him. You know you’re distant and unavailable and all of those other ugly words that the fucking neo-psychologists spew out, but then again, they’d probably also tell you that you’ve got issues because you never fed him enough cake. CrockerMD logic can fuck itself.

So when he speaks to you, you watch his mouth. You watch his lips, delicate and thin, listen to each and every sound he makes when he’s looking at you. It doesn’t matter what he’s saying; he’s your little brother, and you’ll honor every request he makes of you

just

befuckingcause.

You think about his lips after the fact, when you’re traveling, on tour, lying in a hotel bed, thinking about just how fucking human his mouth is and it makes your body ache in some strange nostalgic way like you’re remembering some childhood shit that makes you shake and you can’t take it but

it’s okay though; he’s family. 

You’re close. 

You’re his bro, after all.


End file.
